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EVERY KROTE now riding a new machine, Conbarma was in ruins. Much of the harbor had been torn up, buildings were leveled, traces of hawk flesh lay across the ground and the sky itself seemed to be burning from the fires erupting around the town. The Krotes were reveling in this new experience, and the Mages seemed content with that.
    Lenora maneuvered her machine in front of a tall, striding thing and questioned the Krote sitting high above her. “Have you seen the Mages?”
    “No, Mistress.”
    Lenora frowned and looked around. The fires lit the sky and deepened shadows. Every Krote was now mounted on his or her machine, and there was no sign of anyone walking.
    “Mistress…I never knew it would be like this.”
    Lenora looked up at the Krote. He was young, tall and dark-skinned, only slightly scarred by battle. “What did you think it would be like?”
    He shook his head. “I had no idea. I’d heard all the stories, read the histories, but this is such power. ” He lowered his voice and leaned closer, as if that would hide his next comment. “How can the Mages give all this to us?”
    “They’ve given us nothing,” Lenora said. “Only a taste of what they have. We control the machines, not the magic that made them. Never forget that.”
    “But I can feel it!”
    “ Never forget that!” Lenora said again, harsher than she had intended.
    The young Krote’s eyes flickered down, then he looked at her again and nodded. “Mistress.”
    “Now go on your way. I’ll be issuing a call to meet soon enough. Practice with your mount. Get its feel, discover its movement and limitations, if it has any.” She examined the machine, trying to make out details in the flickering light. “It’s tall, so it should be a good runner. And those legs are barbed and sharp. You’ll be able to cut down our enemies like fields of corn.”
    “I’ve never seen corn,” he said.
    “You will.”
    She saw the Mages then, emerging from between two squat stone buildings farther along the harbor. They watched the Krotes, and though they were illuminated by various dancing fires, still there was a darkness between them, darker than twilight and immune to the fires shining from a dozen different angles. Even from this far away, Lenora could see the twinkle of Angel’s eyes, but the shadow hanging at her side gave away nothing.
    Lenora steered her machine their way, walking slowly to match their pace. S’Hivez stared up at her, his expression unchanging, and it took only heartbeats for her to avert her gaze.
    “It’s quite an army we’re building here,” Angel said.
    “Unbeatable,” Lenora said.
    “Of course.” Angel nodded and stared at her lieutenant. Her face was young, the skin barely marked by time, and she seemed to glow with some inner truth only just discovered.
    What the fuck is that ? Lenora thought. The air between the Mages seemed to belong somewhere else. It was dark and calm, untouched by fire or moonlight, but flowing with its own particular threads of illumination.
    “A soul unborn,” S’Hivez said. “Aborted by nature and cast aside.”
    “It’s a shade,” Lenora whispered. The thing held no real shape, though occasionally it seemed to find form for a few heartbeats. Each form was familiar but unrecognizable, as though Lenora was viewing dreams long forgotten.
    “It’s part of a shade that we’ve brought into the world,” Angel said. The shadow slipped around her shoulder and down her front, pooling at her feet. “We’re leaving this with you, Lenora. Soon S’Hivez and I must go, but there’s a lot more work to be done for our main army’s arrival. There are plans to be made, and machines to be built, and—”
    “Why are you going?” Lenora said.
    “Don’t question our actions,” Angel said, her voice low and even.
    Lenora looked down at her hands. The machine settled slightly below her, as if it too was cowed by the Mage’s words. “Mistress.”
    “We have our reasons, just as we have